Into the Wild
by uoduck
Summary: Connor Kenway comes across an Englishman with a scar on his forehead while taking care of the homestead.


Connor studied the man beneath him, watching as he set up camp in the small clearing. The night sky blanketed them both as the man set up a tent and a fire pit within a few minutes, starting a fire in the pit after setting the tent up.

The crackle of the fire soon filled the air, drawing Connor's attention further when he noticed that the man did not do anything but speak two words to start it. And the words had not been in English or in a language that Connor could understand.

The man sighed and peered up at the sky, showing his face to Connor finally. His dark hair hung down to his shoulders, wild and untamed, and his green eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. The scar on his forehead looked like a lightning bolt as it forked down in branches, pointing downward on the man's skin. Connor could see the raised skin just a little bit and he knew he had not seen the man before.

The man looked to be in his early twenties, a few years older than Connor, perhaps about 22 or 23. He wasn't wearing any piece of clothing that marked him as British or American. A dark green shirt covered his chest and long pants covered his legs. The man wore sturdy, thick boots on his feet, boots that had seen much wear.

"I figured I might encounter mountain lions up in trees," the man started wearily, loud enough for Connor to hear but no louder. "But not a man."

Connor stared down at the man as he raised his face up to meet the sky, to meet Connor's eyes. Connor lowered his hand down to make sure his tomahawk was on his belt, traced the hidden blade at his other wrist, and lightly jumped down onto the ground, landing a few feet away from the man.

"Who are you?"

The man watched him steadily before shrugging. "Harry. I'm called Harry. And you?"

"Connor."

Harry dipped his head in a nod before sitting down on the ground, with his back to a log. "You must be the lord that I've been hearing so much about."

"I'm no lord. I just take care of these lands."

"I was a lord once," Harry remarked, meeting Connor's eyes before looking up into the sky again. "I don't really recommend it. Though it did let me speak for people who would have gone unheard and it let me protect people."

Connor tilted his head and ventured into the man's camp, after he saw no indication that the man didn't want him. "Once?"

"Uh… it's a long story," Harry offered, grinning faintly. "Really long story."

"Are you traveling then? Do you have a place to stay?"

"What's it to you?" Harry questioned, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you have any skills that would contribute to this homestead?" Connor questioned, rubbing his fingers together to keep warm. He pulled his hood further down as he studied the man in front of him.

Harry blinked before he looked around, probably hearing the mill a few miles away or the inn. "I can heal I suppose. I'm fairly good with potions, I think. I'm no expert but I can make a potion to ease pain or bring someone good luck. I can brew a potion to regrow bones though I learned that through experience."

Connor stared at Harry before crossing his arms, pondering his words. "We could do with an apothecary. I am sure the people would appreciate your skills as I would I."

"And what exactly do you do?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked Connor over. Something darkened in Harry's eyes, a flash of something that he couldn't recognize, that made his heart skip a beat. "I saw you fly through those trees like you were a flying squirrel. Though you're definitely bigger than a squirrel. More like a bear."

Connor frowned even as Harry's lips twitched up into an amused grin.

"Are you insulting me?"

"No. No, I was not. I was just saying… You're an impressive looking man."

Connor blinked and shuffled his feet, feeling warmth gather in his stomach. "You know of a… potion to regrow bones."

"Yes. Don't ask. It was an unpleasant experience."

"I will not then. I can offer you a little land and access to any plant you might need."

Harry stayed quiet for a little bit, his eyes straying to the tomahawk at Connor's waist. "I do like the quiet here. It's… nice."

"You lived in the city before?"

"Yeah. I went to school in the country when I was old enough and then… I fought in a war. That wasn't quiet at all."

Connor's narrowed as Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Are you sure of your offer?"

"Yes, I am sure."

Harry stared up at him before shrugging. "Ah, fine. What the hell. I have nothing better to do. As long as you're not… you know… out to take over the world or something."

Connor frowned. "I do not plan on taking over the world."

Harry snorted. "Good. And I was teasing you. I'm quite done with dark lords and their minions."

"What do you mean by dark lords and their minions?"

"Now that… is another long story," Harry remarked, before standing up and yawning. He glanced around at his campfire and tent before turning back to look at Connor. "Hadn't really considered finding a permanent place to call home after the whole time travel thing happened."

Connor stared at Harry, looking up into the night sky as a light dusting of snow started to fall. "The time travel thing?"

"Ahhh, forget I said anything. Let me just pack up and then you lead, I shall follow."

Connor watched as Harry put out the fire, making sure there were no remaining sparks or embers. Harry spared him a glance before stepping into his tent, disappearing momentarily before coming out and taking the tent down. Only… Harry just snapped his fingers and the tent folded itself up within seconds.

Connor blinked at the sight, his heart jolting within his chest as Harry tucked the piece of fabric that had been a tent away in a pocket. The man also wrapped a cloak around himself, pulling it tightly around his shoulders and then walked over to stand in front of Connor.

"Well?"

Connor continued to stare at him for a moment, locking in on Harry.

Harry returned his thoughtful expression, his eyes curious.

Connor sighed and whistled for his horse, hearing the clip clop of hooves through the forest. "Do you have a horse?"

"No. I just… walked."

Connor stared at Harry, who shrugged. "A guy's gotta have some secrets."

"I do not know of anything that would regrow someone's bones," Connor remarked.

"You've just gotta get out more then." Harry's lips twitched up into a grin at Connor's expression.

Connor tilted his head again, trying to see something more in the man that would help him understand. "You're not mocking me, are you?"

"No. I do not mock people. That… way lies bad memories," Harry answered, watching as Connor's horse trotted into the clearing and stopped at his side.

"We can ride together," Connor finally said, inhaling deeply and bracing himself before jumping up onto the saddle. He stroked his horse's neck, smiling a little as the mare whinnied quietly.

Harry frowned. "I don't… I can follow on my own."

"You don't know how to ride?"

"Vaguely. And it was… half a horse when I did," Harry muttered before shrugging and walking over to the horse's side.

Connor hesitantly reached out a hand, expecting Harry to be loud, clumsy and his limbs to be everywhere. Reality was a bit different as Harry took his hand and gracefully jumped up into the saddle behind him. The white man was quiet and moved with precision as if he knew just how to move.

Once in the saddle, Connor could feel Harry's warmth even through their clothes and he noticed now that Harry wasn't touching him at all. When Connor had ridden with Paul Revere to gather the militia, the man hadn't paid much attention to Connor's stiff back or that he kept flinching whenever Revere had touched him.

Harry… was a whole other man, keeping his presence quiet and apart.

"Alright. Let's go. I am… intrigued about this homestead of yours," Harry murmured.

Connor took in a deep breath before urging his horse into a trot and then a canter, heading back over to the path. The moon and stars lit their way and even so Connor had to narrow his eyes, draw on his own vision until everything looked to be as if they were in broad daylight.

They passed the Miles End inn and Connor waved to Myriam as he saw her walk out. Norris was watching her from the doorway of the inn, his eyes wistful and awed and Connor's lips twitched up into a small grin.

He urged his horse past Godfrey and Terry's mill and over to the empty piece of land south of it. Harry was quiet for the ride and Connor wondered what the man was thinking. Harry had talked of so many things that had confused him and the sight of Harry's tent shrinking in size was still flashing through his mind. What kind of a man was Harry?

Connor pulled his horse to a slow stop before the land he had in mind for Harry. "Here. You can build here."

Harry let out a small noise of consideration and dismounted easily, his arms and legs not even touching Connor now. Connor dismounted and studied the man next to him, seeing Harry turn to look at him too.

"Connor. That name seems a little… American for you."

"I do not think I know you well enough to give you my first name."

"Ah. Sorry. Well… I can work with this," Harry replied, turning back to look at the empty slot of land. "I can borrow wood from the mill, right?"

"Yes. You can let me know if you need anything. I shall not be here very often but Myriam and the others can help you if I am not around."

"Soo… this year… It's during the American Revolution, isn't it?"

Connor blinked at Harry's words. "American Revolution?"

"Uhhh… Forget it. I hadn't intended on coming back this far or you know, living in America. I'll get my shop built and you will definitely be welcome any time, Connor."

* * *

AN: I'm just playing AC 3 right now and I kind of want to write a Top Harry drabble with Harry/Haytham Kenway. Does that make me a bad person? Or perhaps Harry/Connor.


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